The Heart in the Host
by listenTOtempejillsHEART
Summary: With Brennan unaccounted for, no one knows what her fate might be, and they might have to face the worst possible scenario in the invaded world they are now forced to live in.
1. The Start of a Storm

_The Heart in the Host_

(a collab-fic by **listenWITHyourHEART** && **TempeJill**;;

hereby after referred to as: **listenTOtempjillsHEART**)

CROSSOVER: _Bones & The Host_

**Disclaimer: neither I (TempeJill) nor listenWITHyourHEART own anything related to the FOX tv show 'Bones,' or the novel The Host by Stephenie Meyer. All references to other well-known products or trademarks are also not owned by either of us. The only things we own are, in listenWITHyourHEART's words: "TempeJill's awesome ideas and my ability to spazz out and add a lot more plot twists :)"**

**(One other point to make: this fic is based in the Bones universe, with influence and basic plot concepts taken from The Host. Almost the entire Bones crew will be present, but there will be no appearances from Host characters.)**

**Without further ado, please do read on... (and hopefully enjoy.)  
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**_One;; The Start of a Storm_**  
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The rain thudded down heavily, and the wind whipped past the entrance to the cave, where two men crouched, eyeing the rapidly increasing storm as it raged just feet in front of them. The wind cut across their faces, and flecks of sand caught in the beard of the shorter one, who was leaned against the wall, shielding his eyes as he peered into the darkness.

"Came on fast," he commented. The dark-haired man with hardened black eyes offered one quick nod of agreement, but no other response. "The water stocks will be up, so that's good at least. We were starting to run low, and the oasis was drying up fast. And with any luck, this will draw out some food once it clears."

He gave a grunt of derision. "Yeah," he agreed shortly, before changing the topic entirely. "I haven't seen Tinner's party come back yet. They better not have drowned."

"If they drowned, I'll bring Tin back to life and kill him again. Angie's out there with them."

_A bright room with glass walls. He was lounged across the couch, grinning, as he watched the activity going on out on the platform. The couple was leaning close together, both eagerly fighting for the rights to the microscope. A dark woman with slick black hair rolled her eyes as she stalked quickly past on the way to her own office, her heels clicking._

_ "What are you doing in my office?" asked a voice incredulously, and he turned to grin at the woman that stood, hands on her hips, in the doorway, frowning at him._

"Here they come now!" his companion said, grinning as he got to his feet. With a little more reserve, he clamored upright as well, his gun instantly out of the holster and in his hand as he pointed it towards the shapes that were hurrying towards the shelter.

"Get to the back of the cave, Jack," he barked, but the other man hurried heedlessly out into the sheets of water that were pouring ceaselessly from the heavens. He swore irritably, and sent up a quick prayer that the idiot squint hadn't just killed them all. Then he stepped away from the entrance, fully intending to take out the entire enemy crew if need be. There was no way they were getting into this home, even if he had to die to protect it.

A moment later a tall, dark-skinned man pounded into the cave, and he holstered the weapon, greeting the man with a civil nod and a terse, "Tinner."

"Booth."

The man continued through to the back, carrying a rucksack.

"Everything clear, Roswell?" he asked a more compliant member of the search party.

Harvey Roswell was a small man in stature, bespectacled with thin golden frames and tiny lenses that pinched his nose tightly. In another environment, he was the type that Booth would have expected to find in a bookstore, eagerly advertising his latest acquisitions with a high and reedy voice. Removed from society, though, he was almost invaluable. He possessed a great intellect, but also a rugged knowledge of the world's darker side. He could make a fire without help, and he had remarkable organization skills. While he wasn't good at getting others to listen, he made a surprising leader once they did. His balding head gleamed with water droplets as he bent to clean his glasses off so that he could see.

"As much as we could hope, Booth," he answered. His voice had been a surprise upon their first meeting, as well. It was deeper than one would have expected given his appearance, and had a reassuring ability engrained in it. There was a bit of concern present now, though, and Booth, vigilant to a degree he'd never had to show in the civilized world, picked up on it in an instant.

"Run into trouble?"

"Only a small fraction, but it was easily handled. Carter caught two rabbits off-guard close to the Edge, and that was when we noticed that the lights were getting closer."

Instantly the older man's eyes hardened. "How close?"

"They appear to be filling the outer abodes more quickly than Hodgins and I had previously calculated. We'll be out of scavenge ground shortly... stealing is going to become a reality sooner than I'd like." He was about to point out that immorality wasn't at the top of his problem list, but Roswell was already explaining. "The risks are at least ten times greater when we have to watch out for neighbors and other nuisances... I'm not looking forward to it. If one of us is caught, it could easily be the end for us all."

"That's why we have these," Booth said stiffly, yanking a chain around his neck to pull what was dangling from it out from under the confines of his shirt and jacket. A set of dog tags and a vial hung loosely from just below where his fist wrapped around the cold metal links.

Roswell fingered the cord that went around his own neck, frowning. "All the same, I don't like it."

"Well, you aren't the only one," he muttered, his mood darkening as he turned and headed towards the back of the cave, where the rest of the searchers were gathering, carrying what little they had found, as they made their way around and through an almost invisible gap in the wall close to the corner on the left. A tunnel wove back into the caves to the right, where there was an endless maze that could kill a man from insanity, hunger, loss of air, or a combination of all of them. He didn't look fondly on his own memories of wandering through them in search of this place, following the instructions that were scrawled crudely with fading ink on the ridiculous little scrap of cloth.

"We're alive, though," a softer voice commented. He turned to find Angela staring at him with her dark and honest eyes, a sadness in them instantly sweeping him along with her on a memory path that he would prefer not to follow. There were many reasons he avoided her nowadays, and this was one of them.

"I noticed," he said stiffly as he shoved his way forward and cut in front of the scrappy young Garrison, who's floppy blonde hair hung so low over his face it was a miracle he still had the ability to see at all. With the water plastering it to his face, it was even more of a surprise that he hadn't walked into a wall and given himself a concussion.

The tunnel was dark and narrow, but his hands easily found the familiar holds that told him exactly where he was. Each one was unique and recognizable just by the feel of it in his callused hands. The hairpin turn revealed just a flicker of light ahead, and he stepped up and over the rock that blocked the pathway, invisible and unexpected to intruders, before taking the sharp ninety degree turn and spinning expertly as he latched onto the ladder and dropped himself two rungs at a time down into the awaiting light.

The path now was wide and spacious, lit every twenty feet with a single torch hanging from the stone walls. He walked easily up it, his pace faster than that of the others who were making their way to the same destination as him, and gradually the slight incline leveled out as he reached the archway and stepped into the sunlight of the main cavern. A buzz of noise instantly met him, and he allowed himself to briefly enjoy it and the feeling of simply _not being alone_. They were immeasurably lucky, every single one of them that was down here. And they all knew it, too.

The light above sparkled as he made his way over to one of the side tunnels, which branched down to the kitchen. A series of mirrors created the illusion of the sun glimmering down, all from a single crevice that lead upwards to the world above. Too small to be traveled through, or to even be noticed. The light was redirected at least a dozen times before it was reflected around to the twenty of so mirrors that covered the ceiling. That had been an effort by Hodgins and Angela together, and he was grateful for it. One flicker of hope in all of their otherwise dismal existences.

_He scowled as he asked again what they were talking about. And then a red laser shot out into the darkness, and a pattern lit up, following a path through otherwise unnoticeable mirrors, positioned just right. Creepy, but really quite... impressive, at the same time._

"Max," he greeted as he passed by the older man, who was exiting the kitchen just as he was heading in.

"Just brought in a load that the latest searchers came back with," Max said without prompting. "I'm not gonna lie, I'm getting concerned with every passing day that we aren't going to have enough to last much longer. We're going to have to cut down to two meals a day, and a smaller one to break it up in the middle somewhere."

"Talk to Roswell; figure something out. I'm just about to take my own personal inventory, and help sort out the newer stuff once it all gets down here. Can I count on you for the next shift?"

"Any chance to get out there, and I'm taking it."

"I know you are," Booth answered seriously. "I don't blame you for a second."

"You wanna know my question, Booth?" He had a feeling he already knew, and he stiffened before the older man finished, "Why aren't you spending every goddamn minute of every goddamn day out there yourself?"

He ground his teeth together. "Because I already went crazy doing that once, and I'm not doing it again. I'm needed here. You are too, for that matter, but you're useful out there when you take off on us. We need every scrap of information we can get."

"Duty isn't something we assigned to you. You chose to put yourself in charge here. You could just as easily be off on your own, and you'd be surviving just the same, I know that for a fact."

"I've got work to do," he said gruffly, pushing past and trying to ignore the clenching in his chest and the agony which always accompanied it.

_"I've got Russ. I'll be fine."_

_ "I'm not _leaving_ you here while I hightail it off to safety. Either I'm going with you, or you're coming with me. There is no third option here."_

He sighed as he rounded the corner into the supply den and got a good look for himself at the state of things. Tinner was crouching propped up on his feet as he pulled items from his rucksack and stored them on the proper shelves. Mostly he had cans of fruits, but there appeared to be a few other items as well.

"Pudding, nice," Booth said appreciatively. The two men didn't get along well, ever since Booth had assured his position as the leader of their little colony, but he made the effort to keep the hostility to a minimum. Strife among the ranks was the last thing they needed if they were going to keep their cools and remain organized and productive.

A grunt was all he got in response, but he didn't mind much.

"See if you can fit those in the freezer, instead of on the shelves. They'll last a bit longer, and they won't take up much space."

"Ah, good, Booth, I was hoping to see you today," a familiar voice called his attention, and he turned to smile warmly at Wendell Bray, who had turned into a surprising chef since he had joined them here. He also kept very good stock of just how much food was available, with the occasional, and well-appreciated, help of Roswell.

"I aim to please," he responded lightly, managing a smile for the first time in the past few days. Times were tough; there was very little that could cheer him up. A familiar face, one that shared memories with him but didn't force him to relive them on a daily basis... it provided a feeling that didn't surface normally in the hard shell of a man that he'd turned into. Mostly he gave orders, and he did what was necessary to ensure that everyone in these caves survived. Chatting about the days of old, discussing football and famous batting averages... it let him relax from his normally tense daily schedule.

Most of all, Wendell never brought up the circumstances which had led to Booth's arrival in the colony in the first place.

"We're running really low on flour, so bread in the near future is looking like a lost cause," Wendell said with a frown set between his eyes. "The fruit stock is pretty high, and the vegetables are in good supply, but we'll need to use those up quick before they go rotten on us. Lately we've been picking up a lot of cans, so those will last longer."

"Meat?"

"The searchers brought in two rabbits today; those are going in tonight's stew. We have some frozen beef and a bit of pork, too, but that's getting older. We have to use it soon, or we're going to have a lot more patients visiting Cam."

"That is the _last_ thing we need."

"No kidding. How's her technique going, by the way? I haven't been down there in a while, but last I was needed she had made a few advancements."

"I try not to get in her way," Booth said dismissively. Like Angela, Cam had a tendency to bring out another side of him that he didn't enjoy in the slightest. Memories only hurt, nowadays, and the future was all he had to look for. If Hodgins wasn't so eager to work the raiding and searching parties, he would probably be disassociated with him as well.

"Well, I might drop down there and see what she's been up to. Clark's been plenty of help, so I haven't been much use... I kind of miss the atmosphere, y'know?"

Yeah, he knew. The man that hated sterile labs had disappeared many years ago. Now he felt a sort of longing for that familiar, sparkling place.

"I'll see you around," Booth said with a quick nod, turning on his heel and bounding back up the passage to the bright open space that was waiting for him.

The air was relaxing, a welcome relief, and he slowed and walked calmly across the expanse of ground, passing through the crowd.

"Seeley Booth!" For once, he smiled before he turned around to greet the person who had called his name.

"Clarissa Hayes... fancy meeting you here," he greeted formally, eyes twinkling. She whacked him on the arm with a wooden spoon, her expression warm and teasing.

"Oh yes, what a surprise. Listen up, now, you, we've got a heap load of trouble coming in off the western border, and that ain't the end of it." He raised an eyebrow, an invitation for her to go ahead and explain whatever this was she was talking about. "We got a group of Takens headin' this way. Have been ever since your little scoutin' mission yesterday."

He frowned. "Why wasn't I told sooner?"

"Because you, sir, were far too busy organizing _another_ raid. I wasn't going to call council over you for being _dumb_. But now you better get your pretty little tush on it, or I might start switching my affection over to dark an' handsome there."

He glanced in the direction her eyes had flicked, and noticed Tinner lounged against the wall, talking with one of his close friends from the days of Before, Carl Weaver.

"I'll get it looked into, and the proper precautions taken. Thanks, Clare."

"Don't thank me until those Takens are long gone and not comin' back for a good long while."

Without another word, she turned and headed off, even her walk reflecting her 'no-nonsense' personality. She was the mother hen of their colony, always looking out for everyone no matter how old they were... or how they acted. He wasn't sure how they would ever be able to cope without her.

Sighing, he headed towards the look-out point, to go figure out how to deal with today's latest problem.

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**Feedback would be loved :) **

**Expect an update sometime next week... we want to keep regular updates rather than my usual sporadic chapter posting, haha.  
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	2. New Eyes

_Two;; New Eyes  
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The first wave of memories was always the most interesting. The one that needed to be paid the greatest level of attention. This was when secrets were unwillingly revealed, and opened up to her at the slightest touch. When the shock wore off, this would go away. This was a key moment, that could mean a grave difference in her next years.

The first images that appeared were vague, filled with confusion. The soul was trying to sort out what had happened, in its semi-conscious state. She ignored that, and began to dig carefully. The first flashes came completely without bidding, as they always did.

She was acquainted with this world already, having been among the original wave. Her first existence here had been in the body of a young scientist by the name of Daisy Wick. Her thoughts had been filled with panic and shock at nearly everything that had happened, which wasn't much of a surprise given her personality from the memories she'd seen while she was occupying. During her time there, though, she had personally become acquainted with each of the staff members. In particular, Daisy's idol, Dr. Temperance Brennan.

And now, she was going to get a plethora of insight on the seemingly cold and aloof anthropologist.

The first memories were recent.

_She crouched nimbly on a tree branch as she stared down in horror at the ruins of her campsite. 'Zach... Zach...' her thoughts repeated over and over. And then, '...I'm alone.'_

_ The sounds of the Chasers grew closer as she ran, her feet pounding on the ground even as her hand reached up to her neck, yanking a thin chain necklace so hard that it snapped and came away from around her skin. Her fingers made rapid work of the little vial's top, and she yanked it up, ready to gulp down it's contents as quickly as possible... but a hard force rammed into her side. Pain, horror, fury... she began to kick and punch in a variety of violent moves, twisting away and once again running for her life. The vial was lost. She remembered a river, and changed course, her mind mapping out the distance and the obstacles. She knew this land well. _

_ The sounds of splashing, rushing water reached her ears. 'Yes, yes... can't let them get me... I won't live to let my family die...'_

_ Sharp pain in her shoulder. A flashing, tingling sensation. She cried out in agony as it coursed through her. As her legs completely lost their ability to function, she collapsed only feet from the river. A sob ripped from her throat. 'No, gotta make it... gotta make it...'_

_ A last feeble attempt to drag herself into the water, to sink and be pulled away, to drown, to die... and then the world faded to black._

Quickly she began skimming through other memories, now that the most recent had worn themselves out. The FBI Agent, Booth, kept cropping up at every turn, and she took a while to explore their relationship. Her complete honesty in the lab surprised her somewhat, when she discovered that they truly weren't having a relationship. What she found, though, was a remarkable amount of trust and companionship.

Her task switched to finding the conspiracy man, the bug expert... Hodgins. That was his name. The moment she thought it, the images appeared. A few memories were in flashes, and several appeared to be in a tight and confined space, which appeared to be a car, only the windows were blocked and the air seemed painfully thin. Those memories whisked away as she looked for more recent memories associated with the man.

_"Don't doubt me, alright? I know what I'm talking about."_

_ "You're a conspiracy theorist, Hodgins, you always think you know what you're talking about."_

_ "For goodness..." he broke off, cursing under his breath, and then thrust a little paper scroll at her. "This is your ticket, alright? This is your last hope. Only you are going to be able to figure this out, no one else. I've made sure."_

_ "I don't understand, what are you even-"_

_ "Dr. B., I've said some crazy stuff in my life." His voice was low, and filled with an honest desperation that she couldn't ignore. "But this is some of the worst, and that's because it's here, and it's happening, and we can't do anything to stop it. Understood? Daisy is acting weird. Fisher is out of it. Arastoo has started getting his prayer times messed up. And on top of that, they all have cuts on the backs of their necks, and their eyes look a hell of a lot more blue than they used to."_

_ "Your theory is that there is an alien invasion taking place?" she asked incredulously._

_ "Please take me seriously. I'm not kidding here. You _know_ me. You know that I know when things are out of whack, and when I've gone too far. But you can tell me over and over again that I've got this wrong, and nothing is going to change my mind. Something is _wrong_ here."_

_ "And you have a... plan for surviving an invasion?"_

_ "That," he said, pointing to the little scroll. "You need to follow it, and it will bring you to safety. I've given them to people I trust, people I care about. You probably don't believe me, because you need proof... but just promise me that you'll do what's right with it when the time comes. Oh, and you'll need to memorize it and burn it."_

_ She raised her eyebrows. "You aren't serious?"_

_ "I'm _dead_ serious." Without another word, he turned and headed back to the platform, putting his arms around Angela and beginning to murmur seriously in her ear. Silently, she pocketed the little piece of paper, resolving to look at it later... and to pay a bit more attention to her interns. She doubted they were being possessed by aliens, but if Hodgins thought something was weird, she should keep an eye out unless something was amiss._

Focusing on the piece of paper now, rather than the man who had given it, she found a memory of an apartment. She was seated on a couch in a comfortable and spacious living room, although without one of those television sets that other humans seemingly couldn't live without.

_Her hands played with the tie on the small scroll as her thoughts pieced together the evidence. It had been several days, but she hadn't bothered to read it. Things had started appearing more obviously, though, and her doubts about the three interns were increasing rapidly. They kept making obvious mistakes, and acting out of character for seemingly no reason. And Hodgins had been right about their eyes. If she caught them at an angle, she could see a sliver of something silvery in all of them. He had been right about the cuts on the backs of their necks, too. All identical. _

_ With a quick motion, she undid the knot and let the little scroll unfurl in her hand, raising it up to the light to read the delicate writing that wove its way across the scrap of paper. It was a long list of letters separated at points by hyphens, periods, and addition signs. At the bottom there was a small symbol of a human figure in a circle._

The images began to fade, and suddenly everything went black. It was far quicker than she'd been expecting, but she reminded herself that she was dealing with someone with almost immeasurable intelligence, as far as humans went. This was to be expected, and she was prepared.

Thoughts, so faint that they were like distant echoes, began to come from the soul that was curled up in the back of her consciousness. It stirred. Began to try to gain its bearings. Failed.

And then the panic set in, as it always did.

_I must be dead, I have to be... they couldn't have gotten me... what happened to the vial... I had the vial..._

She remained silent, just listening.

_Can't move, can't move... _she strained helplessly to twitch a finger, bat an eyelash, anything... but there was no response. She could feel, yes, but only that. She could not _interact_.

_Where am I? _The thought was slow, but it was clear that she was beginning to gain her bearings in this strange new environment. And suddenly all thought stopped, and it was clearly forced. A solid wall slammed up, and suddenly all contact was cut. She smiled... couldn't help it.

_Who's there?_ The voice demanded. Clearly she had gotten past how irrational that was, and settled for going on instinct. The wall went down a fraction.

_My name doesn't translate well, but I have chosen to go by River. It was the best I could do, given the limitations English has. _

The moment she began the thought, the soul shrank away in shock.

_I've known you for a while, Dr. Temperance Brennan, so we can skip your half of the introduction, if you'd prefer._

_ Which one were you?_ Well, she certainly caught on fast. Images of the interns from the lab played across River's vision, sent by Brennan's thoughts, and the moment she thought of Daisy she knew it and again recoiled. _What did you do to her? _She demanded.

_I merely requested a transfer. I think I will find this far more suitable. _

Brennan's thoughts began to switch to other matters, which were only half-obscured, and River focused closely on them. It wouldn't take long for Brennan to learn how to almost entirely block her out, and she was aware of this fact.

_Need to... location... find something sharp... maybe... how many floors..._

She wanted to kill herself, obviously.

That wasn't going to happen, because she had no control. River knew well that there had been some of her kind in the past who had succumbed to their hosts and been taken over. She had been to many worlds, and gained many experiences. She was prepared for anything this host might throw at her.

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